can we throw them into the fire
by leoblooms
Summary: Alright, maybe the Fiyero costume was better in theory. Or, Cameron tries to impress Sloane and is quickly reminded as to why tight pants are not the greatest invention.


Alright, maybe the Fiyero costume was better in theory. For the past 10 minutes, he tried very hard to get some sort of feeling in his legs, but he felt nothing. He tried walking around the block, which helped for all of 2 minutes. He bounced and jumped in place, shook his legs around like a tornado of gangly limbs. It wasn't until he arrived at Sloane's house and was forced to stand outside in the same place for a minute because she wasn't ready to come down- stairs and greet him that he realised that the pants might have been a little too tight.

"Cameron!" Sloane exclaimed when she saw him, clapping a hand down over her mouth to avoid laughing. It was quite the sight. Cameron had managed to shove his thin legs into a pair of khakis that he definitely got when he was much smaller and didn't have decent thighs. In any other situation, it wasn't likely she'd let him go out on a walk in something that looked so constricting, but this was Fiyero. Anyone who saw Wicked knew the pants had to be tight.

He stood as best as he could, holding onto the doorframe with one hand. He tried to make it look like a very casual lean, but he could see that she wasn't buying into the facade of trying to be cool. With a rather dismissive nod of acknowledgement, he gripped tighter onto the frame. They needed to leave and they needed to do it now. "So," he started, voice changing to a slightly flirty drawl, "What's the most swankified place in town?"

Sloane suppressed yet another laugh at his fleeting effort to even sound like Fiyero. "That would be the Ozdust Ballroom."

"That's not your line. Elphie isn't even here." Sloane shrugged, rather neutral to the fact that dressed as Elphaba, she still delivered Glinda's line.

"Cameron, are those making you uncomfortable?" She gave a slight flourish of a green hand at the pants. He shook his head. He just wanted her to be happy instead of worrying about him all night. Give her a break from being concerned. In all honesty, it wasn't half bad. He'd be able to stand it with all of the walking around they were going to do.

She didn't buy it for a second. He was definitely losing feeling the longer he just stood there, but he insisted it didn't feel bad. Sloane just nodded and tried to brush off her concerns. That wasn't an easy task, but she tried. "Are you sure? I can see if my dad has anything that fits better."

"No, I'll be alright." He insisted, reaching for her hand and guiding her out the door, finally sighing in joy that he got the chance to move his legs again. Sloane heard his relief, glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and carried on down towards the city streets. Why was he so stubborn?

**oOoOo**

"Sloane, come on," He called out from the pathway. Sloane was on the front porch, chatting away with a family friend she hadn't seen in a while. Cameron was standing on the sidewalk just outside the picket fence waiting. He was rocking back and forth on his heels, shaking his legs again. He was definitely burning those pants when he got home. "There's so much more to do."

"Just a second, Cameron!" She called back, covering her smile with her hand. When she looked back at Ms. Stevens, the woman was smiling as well.

"You're making him wait on purpose, aren't you?" Sloane nodded, trying to fight back giggles. "The pants are making him uncomfortable?" Another nod.

"He told me it isn't bothering him even though I tried to get him to change into something more comfortable." And Ms. Stevens laughed slightly as well.

"Well, men always want to prove themselves, don't they?"

She cast another glance over at Cameron, who ceased his jig immediately when he saw her looking. He resorted to tapping his feet in place. It wasn't benefitting him like the small hops were, but he had to make some sacrifices so to not worry her. She watched him carefully, curious about Ms. Stevens' words. Was Cameron the type of guy who felt like he had to prove himself? Stick to his words; absolutely. But was he the kind of guy who needed to go through physical pain just to prove something?

She liked to think he wasn't. She didn't like to think if she was wrong.

"Yeah, I guess they do." She said, clutching the witch hat full of candy tighter. "I think I should go. Don't want him to be the knight in shining armor for too long." She set off with a wave down towards Cameron. When she reached him, she looked down at his legs that were shaking. "Cameron, are you sure you don't want to change?"

"No!" He exclaimed, voice increasing several decibels. Which was the distinct sign that he was lying through his teeth. Cameron wasn't a good liar; never had been. He ended up ratting himself out all the time. Never did anything to help him.

Then he sighed as if he were completely defeated. "Actually," he began. "Do you think I could borrow those pants from your dad?"

She smiled, reached down and interlocked her fingers with his. "I think you can."

"Good. These are killing me." He said. "And one more thing." They said as they started back down the sidewalk towards the Peterson residence. She looked up at him and let out a small hum as if acknowledging him. "Can we cut these up and throw them out before we go back out? I don't ever want to see them again."

"I've got a better idea. Why don't we throw them into the fire pit outside?"

"As long as I don't have to see them, it's good enough for me."


End file.
